Alive

I woke up and the sky was blue. I hadn’t seen the sky in days. I hadn’t seen colour for years. I had forgotten what blue looked like.

It was new glasses on a day with bright sunshine. The world felt real—all solid with sharp edges.

Gravel crunched beneath my shoes as I walked. My steps had weight. My limbs belonged to me and they did as they were told.

Sound no longer had to travel through a lifetime of silence to reach me. There were birds chirping by my bus stop.

My chest held a bubble of air, just below my collarbone. It grew with my every breath and smile.

My face remembered how to smile.

My heart was pounding, pulsing against the lightness in my chest.

My heart was pounding, but it did not ask to leave.

My heart was pounding, but I did not ask it to stop.

It was at home in this corpse that slowly became a body.